


Young Sir

by Baebadook (CommanderBaewin)



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl is exasperated, CarlxPatrick, In which Patrick is too polite for his own good, M/M, and Daryl is just smug, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderBaewin/pseuds/Baebadook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How many times are you gonna call me that?" He asked, rolling his eyes in a teasing manner. </p><p>Patrick laughed and shrugged. "It's the polite thing to do, and you don't mind it as much as you let on." He accused, leaning over to lightly nudge Carl with his arm. Carl snorted. </p><p>"Only you would be this polite during an apocalypse." He mused, shaking his head. </p><p>Carl GrimesxPatrick</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Sir

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Walking Dead.
> 
> I immediately fell in love with Patrick, he was so adorable and polite. And for some reason I thought him calling Carl young sir was so cute omg. I know this ship doesn't make any since, and this is the first time writing for this fandom so I probably wrote them terribly OOC and just horrible to begin with, sorry. But anyways. CarlxPatrick, shhh, just let it happen, just let it happen. *Pats head* This takes place sometime before 30 Days Without an Accident.
> 
> Also, this is my first time posting on AO3, so hello :) You can find me on Fanfiction.net under the same name.

“Hey there, Young Sir.” A familiar voice chimed from behind him, and Carl paused his comic reading, turning over slightly to glance at the cell block door. He couldn’t help but smile a bit at the lanky teen that stood there.

“Hey Patrick.” Patrick smiled in return and pushed the door close behind him, plopping down onto Carl’s bed. Carl pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“How many times are you gonna call me that?” He asked, rolling his eyes in a teasing manner. Patrick laughed and shrugged.

“It’s the polite thing to do, and you don’t mind it as much as you let on.” He accused, leaning over to lightly nudge Carl with his arm. Carl snorted.

“Only you would be this polite during an apocalypse.” He mused, shaking his head. Patrick huffed playfully.

“Well, my mother always told me to be nice to everybody, so there.”  He shot back, crossing his arms. He went quiet after that; Carl knew why. Patrick didn’t often talk about his parents much, memories still fresh on how they died.

“I finished the volume.” Patrick stated after a pause, holding out the comic book he had been absentmindedly tapping against his knee. Carl took it with a nod, turning to place it on top of a pile on his shelf.

“Great, I promised Michonne I’d let her read them after I was done.” They lapsed into silence once more and Carl scooted down to sit side by side with Patrick, their thighs lightly touching.

“I’m really glad you guys found us.” Patrick admitted quietly, staring down at his hands. Carl unconsciously covered one with his own hand and threaded their fingers together.

Patrick had been in a small group of four when Daryl, along with a scouting team, had found them. They had been malnourished, weak, defenseless, and barely surviving when they had. And they had been afraid.

Things were getting better for them now, Patrick and the others had been fitting in nicely. Patrick had started to come out of his shy shell, and he looked healthier.

Several good things had come out of finding the four of them.

Patrick had had a little trouble taking down Walkers at the beginning, after being used to running and hiding from them. He had been terrified, but Carl had helped him through it. His hands no longer shook on fence duty.

 “I’m glad we did too.”

They shared a smile and Carl leaned in and connected their lips softly. Patrick made a content noise at the familiar sensation of their mouths meeting and brought up a hand to cup Carl’s neck. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing and smiling and lightly touching until someone cleared their throat.

They broke apart, both flushing a bit with embarrassment as they turned to look at a very amused Daryl.

“It’s like a damn romance novel everywhere I go.” He said, shaking his head.

“Is there something we can do for you, sir?” Patrick asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Daryl gestured behind himself, grin still in place.

“Carol wants you.” He simply stated and turned to leave, chuckling.

Patrick sighed and made to stand up, but Carl tugged at his arm and brought him down to his sitting level to pull him into another quick kiss.

“Now go on, go do your cooking thing.” Carl said with a wave of dismissal, seemingly satisfied. Patrick smiled as he straightened up.

“See you later, young sir.” He said, laughing with utmost glee at the exasperated sound his boyfriend made as he left the room.


End file.
